While going through the swift rapids of the river the hero of this story was thrown from his canoe, stunned by striking a large stone in the stream, washed ashore by the current, and awoke to find himself alone in the wilderness. His guide had vanished, and the canoe was nowhere to be seen. Read the story silently, noticing especially how the hero secured fire and the different methods he used to obtain food.

I was alone in the heart of the great woods, miles from a settlement and without food, weapons, shelter, or anything save the clothes upon my back and the few trifles in my pockets. Possibly, I thought, the canoe might be washed ashore with its contents, or Joe, my guide, might be safe and in the vicinity. With these ideas strong in my mind I rose and slowly walked along the river's bank. Presently I called out Joe's name, but only the soft echo of the woods replied. Again I trudged on, frequently calling and ever searching, but not a sign of my guide or of my outfit could I find.

At last, convinced that Joe had been lost and that the canoe and its contents were gone forever, I seated myself upon a log and strove to look squarely at the future. It would have been bad enough to be cast away in a country

which I knew, but here I was completely at a loss. I had trusted entirely to my guide, and I knew nothing of this wilderness nor of the way to the settlements.

My clothing had partly dried, but with the passing of the bit of sunlight from the opening between the trees, the air had become chilly, and I shivered with cold. Rising from my seat, I strode back and forth, swinging my arms and striving by exercise to regain a feeling of warmth. Activity, even of this sort, did me a world of good, and I began to plan for my immediate wants. Shelter I must have, and warmth, before night fell, and while I was not hungry, I realized that food would become a pressing need by the following morning.

Fire I must obtain, and in a mad hope that at least one good match might still remain, I sought feverishly and emptied every one of my pockets upon a smooth rock. My total possessions thus displayed consisted of a small bunch of keys, a few small coins, a cambric handkerchief, a heavy jack-knife, and the headless sticks of some matches from which the phosphorus had been completely soaked off. With the bitterest disappointment I gazed at these few articles, for of them all the knife was, as far as I could see, the only thing of value to me in my present plight. With it I thought I might be able to fashion a bow-drill and spindle, and thus obtain fire, a feat I had accomplished in my youth when "playing Indian," but I well knew the difficulty in obtaining just the proper kind of wood, and I realized that a search for it would consume much time, whereas but an hour or two of daylight now remained.

Then flint and steel occurred to me. I had the steel in my knife, but I did not know whether flint was to be found in the vicinity. However, I rose, made my way to the stony edge of the river, and sought diligently for some bit of rock which resembled flint. Each piece that struck my fancy I tried with my knife, and several gave off faint, bright sparks. All these I pocketed and, having obtained an assortment, I

retraced my way to the rock whereon I had left my other possessions, and prepared to try my hand at obtaining fire by means of my knife and the pebbles.

I realized that the tiny sparks which I could obtain in this way would never ignite a twig, or even a bit of bark, and that some inflammable tinder, which would catch the spark and which could then be fanned to a flame, must be secured before I could hope to succeed. As I was thinking of this my gaze fell upon a black-edged hole in my handkerchief. It had been burned, a few days before, by a spark from Joe's pipe. The incident was too trivial to have filled my thoughts for an instant at another time, but now, as all its details came back to me with a rush, I gave a shout of joy as I realized that this burned hole and the events which had caused it had solved my puzzle.

Seizing the square of cotton cloth, which was now quite dry, I weighted it down with bits of stone for the apparently useless handkerchief had now become of the utmost value to me—and hurried into the woods in search of dry twigs and other inflammable material. I had not long to hunt, for dead and dried trees were all about; several white birches furnished sheets of paper-like bark, and with a great armful of fire-wood I returned to my rock. Gathering the handkerchief into a loosely crumpled mass, I placed it on the rock, held the most promising of my pebbles close to it, and struck the stone sharply with the back of my knife-blade. A little shower of sparks flew forth at the blow, but none fell upon the handkerchief. Again and again I tried, each time holding the stone in a different position, and trying my best to cause the sparks to fall upon the handkerchief. Finally I gathered the cloth in my hand, and holding the pebble in the midst struck it with my knife.

Sparks gleamed against the handkerchief, but no sign of charring cloth or wisp of smoke rewarded me. Surely, I thought, these sparks must be as hot as the tiny, glowing ember from Joe's pipe, and I unfolded and examined the

handkerchief about the burned spot. Perhaps, I thought, this particular part of the cloth was more inflammable than the rest, and gathering up the handkerchief, with the old burn close, I struck the pebble again with my knife.

Carefully I examined the cloth and the next instant dropped knife and pebble and cried aloud in triumph. At one edge of the charred hole a tiny speck of red glowed in the dusk of coming evening, and spread rapidly in size. Carefully I blew upon it, folded another corner of the cloth against it, and waved the handkerchief back and forth. Brighter and brighter the spark gleamed; a tiny thread of smoke arose, and an instant later a little tongue of flame sprang from the cambric, and I knew that fire, warmth, and comfort were mine.

It was but an instant's work to ignite a piece of birch bark and push it among the pile of wood and twigs, and then, carefully extinguishing the handkerchief- for it had now grown precious in my eyes-I squatted before the blazing fire and revelled in the comforting warmth. My efforts to obtain fire and the extent to which I had concentrated my mind on this problem had kept me busy until now, but, once the fire was blazing merrily, and an ample supply of fuel was at hand, I felt absolutely worn out.

The sun had set and the forest was black as midnight, but the sky was still bright with the afterglow and the river shone like silver between its shadowy banks. There was no hope of finding berries or roots in the woods after dusk. I had no means of catching game or fish, which, I knew, were abundant, and I commenced to think that I would die of starvation before morning, when I suddenly recalled having seen a number of fresh-water mussels in some shallow backwaters of the river while hunting for my flinty pebbles. I had never eaten these shell-fish, but I felt sure they were edible, and, seizing a blazing pine knot from the fire, I made my way to the shore and soon found the pools where I had noticed the mollusks.